Put Yourself in His Place | Page 7

his eyes were suddenly moist, and he actually
groaned. "A lady, every inch!" he said; "yet she has gone and married a
bricklayer."
Well, blood is thicker than water, and in a few years they were pretty
good friends again, though they saw but little of one another, meeting
only in Hillsborough, which Guy hated, and never drove into now
without what he called his antidotes: a Bible and a bottle of
lavender-water. It was his humor to read the one, and sprinkle the other,
as soon as ever he got within the circle of the smoky trades.
When Edith's little boy was nine years old, and much admired for his
quickness and love of learning, and of making walking-stick heads and
ladies' work-boxes, Mr. Little's prosperity received a severe check, and
through his own fault. He speculated largely in building villas, overdid
the market, and got crippled. He had contracts uncompleted, and was
liable to penalties; and at last saw himself the nominal possessor of a
brick wilderness, but on the verge of ruin for want of cash.
He tried every other resource first; but at last he came to his wife, to
borrow her L1900. The security he offered was a mortgage on twelve
carcasses, or houses the bare walls and roofs of which were built.
Mrs. Little wrote at once to Mr. Raby for her money.
Instead of lending the trust-money hastily, Raby submitted the proposal
to his solicitor, and that gentleman soon discovered the vaunted
security was a second mortgage, with interest overdue on the first; and
so he told Guy, who then merely remarked, "I expected as much. When
had a tradesman any sense of honor in money matters? This one would
cheat his very wife and child."
He declined the proposal, in two words, "Rotten security!"
Then Mr. James Little found another security that looked very plausible,
and primed his wife with arguments, and she implored Guy to call and
talk it over with them both.
He came that very afternoon, and brought his father's will.
Then Edith offered the security, and tried to convey to the trustee her
full belief that it was undeniable.
Guy picked terrible holes in it, and read their father's will, confining the
funds to consols, or a first mortgage on land. "You take the money on
these conditions: it is almost as improper of you to wish to evade them,
as it would be of me to assist you. And then there is your child; I am

hound in honor not to risk his little fortune. See, here's my signature to
that."
"My child!" cried Edith. "When he comes of age, I'll go on my knees to
him and say, 'My darling, I borrowed your money to save your father's
credit.' And my darling will throw his arms round me, and forgive me."
"Simpleton!" said Guy. "And how about your daughters and their
husbands? And their husbands' solicitors? Will they throw their arms
round your neck, and break forth into twaddle? No! I have made
inquiries. Your husband's affairs are desperate. I won't throw your
money into his well; and you will both live to thank me for seeing
clearer than you do, and saving this L1900 for you and yours."
James Little had writhed in his chair for some time: he now cried out
wildly,
"Edith, you shall demean yourself no more. He always hated me: and
now let him have his will, and seal my dishonor and my ruin. Oblige
me by leaving my house, Mr. Raby."
"Oh, no, James!" cried Edith, trembling, and shocked at this affront.
But Guy rose like a tower. "I've noticed this trait in all tradespeople,"
said he grimly. "They are obsequious to a gentleman so long as they
hope to get the better of him; but, the moment they find it is impossible
to overreach him, they insult him." And with this he stalked out of the
house.
"Oh, my poor James, how could you?" said Edith.
"Forgive me," said he, quietly. "It is all over. That was our last chance."
Guy Raby walked down the street, stung to the quick. He went straight
to his solicitor and arranged to borrow L1900 on his own property.
"For," said he, "I'll show them both how little a snob can understand a
gentleman. I won't tamper with her son's money, but I'll give her my
own to throw into his well. Confound him! why did she ever marry
him?"
When the business was virtually settled, he came back to the house in
great haste.
Meantime Mr. James Little went up to his dressing-room, as usual, to
dress for dinner; but he remained there so long that, at last, Mrs. Little
sent her maid to tell him dinner was ready.
The girl had hardly